So we had MOPS on Tuesday. I was eager to go, and made the extra effort to get David and I out the door on time.
I have been feeling a little (ok, a lot) isolated, the days seem to go by quickly but the weeks seem to take forever, and I feel like I've already been away from 'home" (Washington) for 6 months instead of 6 weeks. See, being new in the community, and fairly far from any sort of real town (our town consists of a post office, a bank, a gas station, some bars, a couple churches and a school), there isn't a lot to leave the house for. Bella of course gets picked up by the bus every weekday to go to school, and David and I go to the post office to check for mail once a week (a big outing for us!), sometimes if the weather is nice we go to the park, but other than that, we go in to Williston (about a 40 minute drive, with traffic) about once a month for groceries. In the opposite direction, there is about a 30 minute drive to Watford City, which is where Per works, we go to church and David and I go to MOPS twice a month. We take every opportunity to visit with the few (but wonderful) new friends we have made here, and I am so grateful for these blessings. But coming from living right downtown within walking distance to just about anything I needed or wanted to do or buy, this is kind of a big transition. Especially since we basically moved out here and then Per had to move to Bismarck for 3 months, leaving the kids and I virtually all alone on the prairie. I am very thankful he gets to come home on weekends! (I know, it's not the 1800's but it kind of may as well be, I feel like I am on a planet far removed from all I know and am used to. Like, if I had to put on an oxygen tank every time I opened my front door because the air was different, it wouldn't surprise me in the least.
Fixing up our house and making it a home took up my time for the first month, but organizing the same small space can only be done for so long before I need to find something else to occupy my time. So this is the 'lay of the land" in my heart and my thoughts as I walked into MOPS on Tuesday morning. Eager for something else to do, wanting to connect with others in a meaningful way, longing to be a part of something bigger than our four walls, wondering what on earth God could have for ME out here on the prairie. If it was just to be a support to my husband in pursuing HIS dreams, well, I guess that would be enough, but I know that isn't how God works. He doesn't just have a plan for one family member - he has a plan for each family member. I would just be open and hope God would show me how I could be productive and useful in a way that I could feel like I was making a purposeful contribution to life in some way that was fulfilling to me as well.
When our MOPS group leader opened up the morning with an announcement that there were a couple of guest speakers from the McKenzie County DSHS Foster department,(I'm sure that's not their actual name, but whatever),my ears perked up instantly. Fostering, and even adopting, are subjects that Per and I have talked about on several occasions.
There was a plea for foster families - loving people were desperately needed to open their hearts and their homes to children. There are only 2 licensed foster homes in our entire county. And with the huge influx of people coming into this area for work plus the high stress, long hour jobs, the cases of children needing these services has unfortunately risen to the point where there are not enough foster homes
to take these children. I was tensed on the edge of my seat with a lump in my throat and tears smarting my nose. I kept trying to look nonchelant like everyone else but felt for sure there must be a pulsing beacon of light emanating from my body. Oh, wait, that was just my heart - in my throat.
What the heck! Lord, really? Are you kidding? There are so many reasons this would not be a good idea right now. We can barely fit into our trailer with just the 4 of us. We don't live in a super neighborhood - kids can't even really play outside here! I don't have access to very many resources here. I barely know my way around. haven't we been going through enough change and uncertainty? I couldn't grow attached to a child only to have them ripped away and put back with the people they were taken away from for VERY GOOD REASONS!
Oh, thank You for reminding me of the story of the good samaritan, Lord. Helpful. Yes, I am sure they may have had some of the very same objections.
Why are You asking me if I trust You? That doesn't seem like a very fair question. I followed You all the way out here and have been trusting You for so much!
Well, no. I'm not saying there should be a limit on how much I should trust You for. Just that maybe I could, just, you know, take a break between trusting, or like, maybe You could pick smaller things for a while?
Hello? Hello? Oh, man. He hung up. Or is it just a bad connection? Oh, I guess that's on MY end.
Well, Lord, I can't just sit here in MOPS and make this kind of decision on my own without talking to Per about it. {glancing at phone}
OK, I hear you. I can text him. But this could take a while for him to get on board so don't expect any (miracles?) snap decisions.
[ME, Texting Per]: So I know this is out of left field, but what would you think of becoming foster parents? There are only 2 families here in McKenzie County, and the social workers are begging for families to get licensed. I know it's a lot to think about but..."
[Per, replying almost instantly]: What's to think about? Let's do it!
[Me, sputtering incredulously]: Really? Are you sure? Are you kidding?
[Per]: It would be an awesome way to serve.
OK, so, thank you Lord for that humbling conversation. I am jumping out of my skin in my excitement. Where do I sign, where do we start? My heart is bursting. This is an answer to so many prayers on so many levels, some I didn't even know existed within me until this very day. But I feel like saul on the road to Damascus - scales have been peeled from my eyes and my heart instantly and I feel fundamentally somehow that I will not ever be the same person again. This is like a 2x4 to the head. In a good way, because it's God's 2x4.
I took the information and forms packet as David and I left, and as soon as I got home, I called the social worker, who kindly answered some first questions and set an appointment to come out to our house and talk with me next Thursday, the 25th.
I know all of this may sound a little crazy. I just don't feel like I can apologize for it. I am not sorry. I can't explain it. I know this is the right thing to do because I know it came directly from God to me. I have no idea how it all will work and I have a lot more questions than answers. It doesn't really matter. I am just as sure that this is the right thing to do as I was that following Per to North Dakota was the right thing to do. Not easy, but right. And I would rather do the hardest thing on earth with the Lord's seal of approval than the easiest thing on earth without it. (And I can easily see that letting go might actually be one of the hardest things on earth.)
Per and I have had several discussions about this since Tuesday, and I am so amazed and grateful for his heart to serve in this way. He is as excited as I am! When I expressed my gratitude at his willingness to do this with me, he simply said, "There is a reason the Lord put us together, Staci." Yes, of course that is true.
This morning, I was reading in Ephesians and although I am not trying to take anything out of context, I couldn't help but be warmed by the way the passage hit me. It was Ephesians 3:14-20. the part that hit me was "I pray that you, being ROOTED and ESTABLISHED in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to GRASP how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." I felt like this was God's way of speaking directly to my heart about why WE, Per and I, would be called to foster children who would be coming to us at such a critical, vulnerable, scarey and possibly painful point in their little lives: to not only provide a physically safe and secure home for them, but also and most importantly, for however long we would be called to care for them, to establish and root them in the amazing love of Christ, to give them the gift of the opportunity to experience a love that surpasses their understanding.
He even showed me through this passage that this kind of love only He can give, I will not have enough for these little ones on my own. Or for sure their biological parents. But God will. God can do it through us if He calls us to let him work through us in this way.
Am I scared to death? Well, yes I am. I would be crazy not to be. I am scared I won't be able to give them what they need while at the same time as giving my own family what they need. I am scared I won't be able to let them go. {Perfect love casts out fear. I AM love. Trust ME. Cast all your cares on Me, for I am the One caring for YOU. And these Children.}
I am scared. But I am more excited than I have been in a long time. I can not WAIT to get licensed and get this ball rolling. I can't wait to make a difference in the life of a child who needs our family.
One family's story of where God will take you if you let Him...or even if you don't...
Friday, October 19, 2012
Monday, October 8, 2012
Follow Through
David pulled his arm out of it's socket tonight after he went to bed, somehow, not really clear on how exactly. He just started crying, which escalated to screaming in pain (he is not a screamer, so I was quite alarmed), and when I hurried in, he was crying, "I pulled on my arm and now it's broken!"
So with Per on speakerphone, I had to get David out of his bunk bed, and the easiest way I could think to do it without moving/hurting his arm more in the position he was in was just to take the blanket he was laying on, wrap it around him and lift it like a hammock. He screamed so loud, my own tears started flowing to be the one causing him so much pain. This was by far the worst episode yet. I could barely hear Per directing me on the speaker phone over David's screaming and crying.
As Per instructed me step by step, I sat David on the floor in front of me with his back tucked into my chest and cupped his left elbow with my left hand, thumb on the inside of his elbow, and grasped his left hand with my right hand. "Now, pull out on his forearm for traction and then bring the hand slowly up towards the shoulder. " That is supposed to result in the joint popping back into place.
The first try resulted in a lot of resistance and screaming, but no popping. Trying to calm David, I told him that I had to try again, and that I was trying to help him feel better, but it was going to hurt a little bit more until we could get it to pop back in. Rousing speech for a 3 year old to hear. He wasn't impressed, and he cried harder.
Try #2, nothing. See if you can guess how loud David was screaming and crying and how bad I wanted to stop, because what I was doing was causing even more pain. But his arm was still hanging limply at his side when I let it down, and he couldn't move it on his own. Every movement was causing him so much pain. I knew I couldn't stop but I felt so inadequate. "Per, it's not working!" I was frantic. He was steady as a rock. I am so grateful for him and his knowledge of how to handle situations like that. Even over the phone.
This is the time, I think, when our children are small, that is the easiest. When we can fix them with a little manipulation, hugs, kisses, a bit of medicine and ice cream. They may fight us when what we have to do to keep them safe and healthy doesn't seem fun or feel good.
My prayer is that God will make it just as clear to me when my children are in other kinds of pain and danger, things that aren't as physically obvious. Things that could potentially endanger their souls, or hurt their hearts. And yes, even physically threaten them. God help me to follow through when my kids may even hate me for it because they don't understand or see the bigger picture. Help me to remember, too, that this was just a tiny taste of how Your heart hurts when you have to apply traction to my life, causing temporary discomfort to bring me to a place of safety and comfort in the long run. Thank You for following through on the tough stuff. Thank You for your example.
I did a quick check of his arm to make sure it was, indeed, out of it's socket. sure enough, it was just laying limply at his side. "Hold on baby, don't try to move. It's not broken. Mommy is going to call daddy so he can help us fix it." I ran to grab my cell phone and called Per and thank God he answered. I knew he would be able to talk me through putting Davids arm back into the socket - unfortunately it's something we're familiar with, as David has had this issue with his left arm before, the doctors say some kids just have loose joints, and he should grow out of it eventually. We had to do this by phone once last winter while Per was working in ND and the kids and I were in Washington. It worked easily and quickly that time, with hardly a tear shed.
So with Per on speakerphone, I had to get David out of his bunk bed, and the easiest way I could think to do it without moving/hurting his arm more in the position he was in was just to take the blanket he was laying on, wrap it around him and lift it like a hammock. He screamed so loud, my own tears started flowing to be the one causing him so much pain. This was by far the worst episode yet. I could barely hear Per directing me on the speaker phone over David's screaming and crying.
As Per instructed me step by step, I sat David on the floor in front of me with his back tucked into my chest and cupped his left elbow with my left hand, thumb on the inside of his elbow, and grasped his left hand with my right hand. "Now, pull out on his forearm for traction and then bring the hand slowly up towards the shoulder. " That is supposed to result in the joint popping back into place.
The first try resulted in a lot of resistance and screaming, but no popping. Trying to calm David, I told him that I had to try again, and that I was trying to help him feel better, but it was going to hurt a little bit more until we could get it to pop back in. Rousing speech for a 3 year old to hear. He wasn't impressed, and he cried harder.
Try #2, nothing. See if you can guess how loud David was screaming and crying and how bad I wanted to stop, because what I was doing was causing even more pain. But his arm was still hanging limply at his side when I let it down, and he couldn't move it on his own. Every movement was causing him so much pain. I knew I couldn't stop but I felt so inadequate. "Per, it's not working!" I was frantic. He was steady as a rock. I am so grateful for him and his knowledge of how to handle situations like that. Even over the phone.
Finally on the third try, I felt the 'pop', and knew the arm was back in, but because it had been such an effort to get it back in, David was still in pain for some time after. I just held him and rocked him until his tense little body relaxed against me and both of our tears began to subside. Per comforted us both over the phone, told David how much he loved him, and then said goodbye. Did I mention how grateful I am to have him? I gave David some medicine (and a bite of ice cream), and held him on the couch until he seemed calm. When I finally tucked him in, we talked over how his fingers were moving and prayed that he would feel all better by tomorrow. Then he fell asleep.
Watching him sleep, I began to think about how much stuff parents have to do that they just don't want to do. That they would give anything to not have to do. And I can't help making the connection between what I had to do to David tonight to fix his arm and how God's 'manipulations' sometimes hurt like this when He is working in our lives. How David pulled his own arm out of the socket. How he pulled away from me, resisting me, fighting the efforts I was making to help him stop being in pain. When he would hold perfectly still, the pain would be greatly less. When I would manipulate his arm, it would cause extreme pain. But there was no other way to end the pain but to follow through on the course I started. He didn't understand why I would hurt him so bad, which, in turn, was very hard for me to bear. How sometimes we as parents back away from being the cause of our children's pain, even when in order to truly make them better, the task needs to be followed through. Even when the pain may hurt us more than it even hurts them.
Watching him sleep, I began to think about how much stuff parents have to do that they just don't want to do. That they would give anything to not have to do. And I can't help making the connection between what I had to do to David tonight to fix his arm and how God's 'manipulations' sometimes hurt like this when He is working in our lives. How David pulled his own arm out of the socket. How he pulled away from me, resisting me, fighting the efforts I was making to help him stop being in pain. When he would hold perfectly still, the pain would be greatly less. When I would manipulate his arm, it would cause extreme pain. But there was no other way to end the pain but to follow through on the course I started. He didn't understand why I would hurt him so bad, which, in turn, was very hard for me to bear. How sometimes we as parents back away from being the cause of our children's pain, even when in order to truly make them better, the task needs to be followed through. Even when the pain may hurt us more than it even hurts them.
This is the time, I think, when our children are small, that is the easiest. When we can fix them with a little manipulation, hugs, kisses, a bit of medicine and ice cream. They may fight us when what we have to do to keep them safe and healthy doesn't seem fun or feel good.
But fast forward a few years to when much larger issues are at stake - issues of the heart, the mind, the soul. When what we did here and now impacts how they accept what we have to do there and then. They need to be able to accept our manipulations, our directions, and to begin to make hard decisions of their own. Where will the ability to follow through in difficulty be if they don't learn it from their parents? It was hard to cause David pain tonight. But it wasn't hard to make the decision to follow through because it was very clear to me that it was the only way to fix the problem and end the pain.
My prayer is that God will make it just as clear to me when my children are in other kinds of pain and danger, things that aren't as physically obvious. Things that could potentially endanger their souls, or hurt their hearts. And yes, even physically threaten them. God help me to follow through when my kids may even hate me for it because they don't understand or see the bigger picture. Help me to remember, too, that this was just a tiny taste of how Your heart hurts when you have to apply traction to my life, causing temporary discomfort to bring me to a place of safety and comfort in the long run. Thank You for following through on the tough stuff. Thank You for your example.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
the "Come to Jesus" meeting
I tried all day to valiantly rise above my dark mood which rose this morning in place of the sunshine, hoping that I could write something a little more positive than what I came up with at the start of the day.
Alas, it was not to be, as the drumming of the incessant rain beat my spirits deeper into the mud with each passing hour. The "come to Jesus" meeting I was going to have in the tub got unceremoniously dumped in favor of the plaintive bleating of a squirmy, restless 3 year old who suddenly decided 47 of his favorite cars were "super dirty, mom, and they need to be bixed right away in that water!" Ah, the couch and a blanket are as good a place as any to come to Jesus, right? It's just....so much easier for me to come to Jesus when I am cozy in the comfortable surroundings of hot water up to my neck (hmmm, that seems a bit telling), a cup of coffee, and my pen and notebook....I guess everything just wasn't right enough today for me to come to Jesus. And I felt His sorrow over this all day. It was palpable, although, until now, sort of...indefinable. All day I've had decisions to make, was provided with opportunities to get out of my funk, but it just seemed too much of an effort. It would be easier after that bath I didn't get. The nap I also longed for all day but couldn't quite squeeze into my hectic and exhausting schedule of laying lethargically on the couch and feeling sorry for myself, only getting up when my children and pets couldn't manage to care for themselves like grownups. I actually told David today to stop acting like a baby. This was, of course, so ludicrous that he just went right ahead and laughed in my face and had the audacity to make me smile ruefully at my own foolishness. So I did the only thing I could do to save my injured pride. I playfully put his pullups on over his head instead of on his little hiney. Finally, something he could appreciate. Did this redeem my bad mother of the day award? Not by a long shot. But it was so nice to hear his precious giggles. Ever really listen to those little sounds? They're just another way God uses to whisper love and srength to the tired souls of mommies and daddies everywhere.
I am very sorry to report back that in my lameness today I didn't actually ever come to Jesus. And I guess that is kind of the same thing as thumbing your nose up at Him. How horrid it feels to admit that. But you know, thinking back over this day, Jesus was at the meeting all day, waiting for me to show up. He wasn't in the tub waiting for me. He wasn't at the sink waiting for me to talk to him over the dirty dishes I was too lazy to do. He wasn't sitting over a cup of steaming coffee at the table, waiting, either. I have a big couch. I laid on it a lot today, wallowing in my own depression and self-pity. By golly if He wasn't sitting right here next to me all day. Not guilting me for being late. Not nagging me for my attention. He was sitting here showing me love in the unexpected small but fierce hug of my son with a quick but undeserved, "I love you mommy". As the tentative but clear notes of my daughter's singing while she made crafts quietly at the table crept slowly into my consciousness and I marveled (from the couch) at what an amazing girl she is becoming and what a tender heart she has, that was Him, too, drawing me gently to himself. And if you don't think I can feel Him here holding me right now as tears are streaming down my cheeks, let me reassure you, I may have been late for my come to Jesus meeting today, and that is a day I won't get back. But I just realized, He has been patiently waiting long enough. Please excuse me, I have a meeting to attend....right now. It's only 11:50 my time. The day's not quite over.
Alas, it was not to be, as the drumming of the incessant rain beat my spirits deeper into the mud with each passing hour. The "come to Jesus" meeting I was going to have in the tub got unceremoniously dumped in favor of the plaintive bleating of a squirmy, restless 3 year old who suddenly decided 47 of his favorite cars were "super dirty, mom, and they need to be bixed right away in that water!" Ah, the couch and a blanket are as good a place as any to come to Jesus, right? It's just....so much easier for me to come to Jesus when I am cozy in the comfortable surroundings of hot water up to my neck (hmmm, that seems a bit telling), a cup of coffee, and my pen and notebook....I guess everything just wasn't right enough today for me to come to Jesus. And I felt His sorrow over this all day. It was palpable, although, until now, sort of...indefinable. All day I've had decisions to make, was provided with opportunities to get out of my funk, but it just seemed too much of an effort. It would be easier after that bath I didn't get. The nap I also longed for all day but couldn't quite squeeze into my hectic and exhausting schedule of laying lethargically on the couch and feeling sorry for myself, only getting up when my children and pets couldn't manage to care for themselves like grownups. I actually told David today to stop acting like a baby. This was, of course, so ludicrous that he just went right ahead and laughed in my face and had the audacity to make me smile ruefully at my own foolishness. So I did the only thing I could do to save my injured pride. I playfully put his pullups on over his head instead of on his little hiney. Finally, something he could appreciate. Did this redeem my bad mother of the day award? Not by a long shot. But it was so nice to hear his precious giggles. Ever really listen to those little sounds? They're just another way God uses to whisper love and srength to the tired souls of mommies and daddies everywhere.
I am very sorry to report back that in my lameness today I didn't actually ever come to Jesus. And I guess that is kind of the same thing as thumbing your nose up at Him. How horrid it feels to admit that. But you know, thinking back over this day, Jesus was at the meeting all day, waiting for me to show up. He wasn't in the tub waiting for me. He wasn't at the sink waiting for me to talk to him over the dirty dishes I was too lazy to do. He wasn't sitting over a cup of steaming coffee at the table, waiting, either. I have a big couch. I laid on it a lot today, wallowing in my own depression and self-pity. By golly if He wasn't sitting right here next to me all day. Not guilting me for being late. Not nagging me for my attention. He was sitting here showing me love in the unexpected small but fierce hug of my son with a quick but undeserved, "I love you mommy". As the tentative but clear notes of my daughter's singing while she made crafts quietly at the table crept slowly into my consciousness and I marveled (from the couch) at what an amazing girl she is becoming and what a tender heart she has, that was Him, too, drawing me gently to himself. And if you don't think I can feel Him here holding me right now as tears are streaming down my cheeks, let me reassure you, I may have been late for my come to Jesus meeting today, and that is a day I won't get back. But I just realized, He has been patiently waiting long enough. Please excuse me, I have a meeting to attend....right now. It's only 11:50 my time. The day's not quite over.
A Rainy Day
It started raining last night, and hasn't let up since. I know this because I was up most of the night with David, who has developed a cough that only comes on at night. This is the first time it has rained here since we moved to Alexander. I would say this is wonderful for the grass, but we actually only have dirt around our trailer until next spring.
When I took Bella up to the bus stop this morning, it was cold enough that our fingers turned red. The weather report says it should be down to 25* tonight and a good chance of snow. Tomorrow night is supposed to be down to 18*. I wasn't expecting Winter to arrive so soon, I just got my fall decorations up! lol - I guess out here on the prairie any time after September is fair game for the snow to start flying. I think I will prefer snow to this rain though (which, to be fair, is very rare here). Not because I mind rain, I kind of enjoy it. But because we are not set up for the mud that comes with it.
On the way back from the bus stop, my shoes collected this thick sticky clay mud and I almost slid down the hill to our house. By the time I reached our door, I think I was about 2 inches taller than when I went outside! lol. I had nowhere to clean my shoes, so I just had to scrape them off on the side of the steps and step inside, making a muddy mess in the doorway.
I was dreading taking the dogs out to go potty, because I knew they would be big mudballs when they came back in, and they would shake off all over my living room and race around getting clay and mud all over the carpet.(did I mention that I don't have a working vaccuum cleaner right now?) I decided to take them out one at a time, so Scully went first, and while he was out, I got a towel to wipe him down when he came back in. I caught him at the door and tried to clean his feet, but the clay wouldn't come out of his fur, so I had to pick him up and carry him at arms length straight into the bathroom and stick him in the tub to rinse him down. I think there was about a cup of mud that came off him, and there were even some PEBBLES! goodness. He escaped and raced into Bellas room and started rubbing his face on her blue carpet to dry off.
I lost my temper and when I caught him, I yelled at him and spanked him before putting him back in the tub to dry him off. Of course David was standing there watching. When I looked at him, he said, "You should apologize to Scully for being mad to him". Heavy sigh. Yes. I should. But first, I need to apologize to you, my little friend who watches everything I do and learns how to handle life by (unfortunately) MY example, since I seem to be the only adult here for you to watch. First apology of the day down by 8:40, I got Scully relatively clean, dried him off, and drug him straight into his crate. Then I got to repeat the process with Missie. Fortunately she goes potty right next to the house. Unfortunately she wouldn't step off the stairs when she felt the rain, so I had to 'go' with her. Between taking Bella to the bus, giving Scully a bath, and standing in the rain with Missie, I was soaked to the bone by 8:45am. I can't believe the amazing desire I have to rehome my dogs after just ONE rainy morning here.
Anyway. I am sure I will actually have a positive spin to put to each and every whiny complaint I served up here this morning, but I am feeling chilly and whimpy and need to go soak in a warm tub and have a little 'come to Jesus' meeting before I can move forward with this day. I will try to say something more positive later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)